


I'm Hewe to Take Wour Owgans OwO

by CursedUndead



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Temporary Character Death, Crack Treated Seriously, Depictions of depression, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know if this is crack, M/M, Named Apprentice (The Arcana), References to Depression, Silly, it feels like it, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedUndead/pseuds/CursedUndead
Summary: “Ilya, I’m not-”“I know,” Ilya says, helping Asra sit. “I’m not here for sex. I’m hewe to take wour owgans.”His voice takes on an overly cutesy and playful tone, and Asra’s eyes widen.“No, no, no,” Asra says, waving his arms.“Yes, yes, yes,” Ilya mocks, in that same tone. “It’s twime fow wou to give me wour laughing owgans.”
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	I'm Hewe to Take Wour Owgans OwO

It’s one of those days, when the mere thought of existing dragged Asra down. He feels the crushing weight of his grief for Zaddie on his chest, and empty at the same time. Logically, it doesn’t make sense, to feel the overwhelming everything along with the soul crushing nothing, but he has no other way to explain it. 

He knows he’s supposed to get up, because he was supposed to meet Ilya a good hour and a half ago. If he doesn’t get up soon, Ilya will come  _ here _ and, well. 

Asra feels like he expends all of his energy on a simple turn of the head, taking in the disarray of his room and his lazy appearance in the mirror. Ilya puts up with a lot, but even he wouldn’t take Asra like this. 

The thought to get up followed by not doing it tumbles in his mind for too long; Ilya comes to his door. Asra sighs and pushes himself off of the bed, everything in him begging to sit back down once he’s up. He forces himself to open the door, and every movement feels sluggish. It’s almost like he’s underwater. 

“You missed our meeting with Lucio, so I thought I’d come check on you,” Ilya says, before Asra can force a greeting out. “I can see it was a good decision.”

By the time Asra has gathered enough energy to send Ilya away, he’s already made himself at home in Asra’s room. The door is shut and Ilya has removed his coat. When did that happen?

Asra shakes his head, and Ilya is back at his side, guiding him towards the bed. 

“Ilya, I’m not-”

“I know,” Ilya says, helping Asra sit. “I’m not here for sex. I’m hewe to take wour owgans.”

His voice takes on an overly cutesy and playful tone, and Asra’s eyes widen.

“No, no, no,” Asra says, waving his arms.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ilya mocks, in that same tone. “It’s twime fow wou to give me wour laughing owgans.”

“That line still makes no sense, and if you touch me I swear to - HAHA!” Asra cuts himself off with his own laughter, as Ilya pins him to his bed.

He’s got a knee on either side of Asra’s waist and his fingers running along his chest and neck.

“Stop squiwming siwwy!” Ilya repremends, but he doesn’t let up. “I’m twying to bweak wour wibs, hewr!”

Asra throws his head back to try and get away from Ilya’s fingers, but all it does is give him more room to tickle his neck. He doesn’t remember how or why Ilya figured out that he’s ticklist there, but he damns the moment in his head. 

“Stop scweaming, someone might hewr wou!” Ilay says.

He looks at Asra seriously, but the threat is minimalized by the fact that he had to scream to be heard over Asra’s laughter. Ilya keeps his hands on him, until his cheeks are stained with tears, and his chest aches from all the laughing. 

Not even twenty minutes ago, Asra thought laughing to be impossible. Everything seemed bleak and pointless, then Ilya broke in with his silly voice and childish ‘cheer up’ tactics and showed him that he could still laugh. Asra hadn’t even had to ask, Ilya just gave him what he needed, no questions asked. 

The thought makes Asra grab Ilya’s shirt and yank him down for a lip bruising kiss before he can ask if Asra is okay. When they pull back, Ilya is looking at him with an awestruck expression. 

“Feeling better?” he asks, after clearing his throat. 

Asra pauses a moment to take stock of how he feels. The grief is still there, sitting heavy and prominent on his chest, but the empty feeling has been replaced with burning lungs and cheeks that hurt from all the smiling. 

“Better than I was.”

“But not a hundred percent,” Ilya finishes, frowning.

Asra gives him a sad smile, and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows Ilya feels the need to fix everything, that if one thing is out of whack it  _ must _ be his fault, but there are some things he can’t fix.

But they’ve had that argument a million times, and it never gets them anywhere.

For now, he says, “You’ve done enough, Ilya.” 

Ilya sets his mouth into a firm line, but nods, not in the mood to fight either. Asra pats the spot next to him, and Ilya settles into it nicely.

Asra knows that it won’t take long for Ilya to get antsy, and he’ll roll his eyes at Ilya’s restlessness as he sheepishly puts his jacket on, but, for now, this is enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me while watching [this ASMR video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7bSdXgXZQa4&list=PL1Q2egvxEPqHETMSGCAgA8RVXAtTmObk3&index=1) & you know. It made my friend who was having a bad laugh so you know what. Worth it. 
> 
> I reused Zaddie's name, but it's up to you if you want this to be a part of Asra & Julian's backstory in The Irony of Choking on a Lifesaver or not.
> 
> Also I'm sorry if there's more mistakes than usual. I usually have my sister look over it for me because she's a lovely editor, but like Hell was I gonna make her read this lmfao


End file.
